"Of course," I said. It seemed so natural.
"This one," he said, taking up one that was numbered "1," "is a plain photograph, in the flesh, before it started; you know! Now look at this, and this—"
He spread them before me, all in order.
"2" was a little fogged, as if a novice had taken it; on "3" a sort of cloudy veil partly obliterated the face; "4" was still further smudged and lost; and "5" was a figure with gloved hands held up, as a man holds his hands up when he is covered by a gun. The face of this one was completely blotted out.
And it didn't seem in the least horrible to me, for I kept on murmuring,
"Of course, of course."
Then Benlian rubbed his hands and smiled at me. "I'm making good progress, am I not?" he said.
"Splendid!" I breathed.
"Better than you know, too," he chuckled, "for you're not properly under yet. But you will be, Pudgie, you will be—"
"Yes, yes!… Will it be long, Benlian?"
"No," he replied, "not if I can keep from eating and sleeping and thinking of other things than the statue—and if you don't disturb me by having girls about the place, Pudgie."